


cliché

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Post-Wedding, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Alm imagined weddings, he pictured rows and rows of folding chairs filled with a sea of people dressed in elaborate tuxedos and gowns. He pictured gray-bearded ministers standing between the two spouses-to-be as they recited vows beneath an altar adorned in white flowers. A flustered little boy, maybe a nephew or distant cousin, stumbling down the aisle with two rings in his hands. He would trip and the guests would laugh good-naturedly as he was helped to his feet and brought the wedding rings. Alm thought of the minister officiating their marriage with a gentle smile and the now-married couple kissing to uproarious applause, backdropped by the sun setting over the ocean's horizon.This, however, had not been the case for the two of them.





	cliché

**Author's Note:**

> i finished fe15 a while ago and i loved it! i thought i would lean more towards mae/celica but i can't even lie celicalm is super cute and i plan to write more for it. anyway this is just a dumb modern au because i want my children to be happy and also adopt lots of cats. i'm still trying to get back into writing, so i apologize if it's a bit awkward or clunky.

"I... think that's the last of them," Alm announced, setting the final box at his feet. He stretched his arms with a satisfied grunt and stepped back to survey his and Celica's handiwork. As best he could, anyway; their only source of light was a flickering light bulb dangling down from a ceiling covered in cracks and water stains. The room was unwelcoming to say the least, furnished in only in torn cobwebs hanging from every bare corner and several cardboard boxes scattered haphazardly about. And yet, as Celica navigated the maze of crates, careful not to step on any, she was smiling just as broadly as she had at their rather unorthodox wedding.

When Alm imagined weddings, he pictured rows and rows of folding chairs filled with a sea of people dressed in elaborate tuxedos and gowns. He pictured gray-bearded ministers standing between the two spouses-to-be as they recited vows beneath an altar adorned in white flowers. A flustered little boy, maybe a nephew or distant cousin, stumbling down the aisle with two rings in his hands. He would trip and the guests would laugh good-naturedly as he was helped to his feet and brought the wedding rings. Alm thought of the minister officiating their marriage with a gentle smile and the now-married couple kissing to uproarious applause, backdropped by the sun setting over the ocean's horizon.

This, however, had not been the case for Alm and Celica.

The two of them had rushed down to city hall, drunk on the rush of euphoria, their outfits more suited for an evening out than the legal unification of two souls. With only the judge, Grandfather, Conrad, and a handful of their closest friends observing, they took turns exchanging vows and wedding bands. Despite the informality of the entire event, despite the fact that the pair had dozens and dozens of worries for what the future held in store looming in their minds, despite everything, the kiss was perfect. Alm encircled her waist and dipped her back, the pads of his thumbs pressing against the worn fabric of her sundress and she looped her arms around his neck and all nine guests applauded with the enthusiasm of a crowd of hundreds. When they stood up, Celica wiped away a stream of tears from his cheek and Alm kissed her forehead, before the judge ushered them along hurriedly.  

And now, hardly half a day later, here they were- just the two of them. Of course, the two of them and the dozens of other tenants in the apartment complex. But, it was only Alm and Celica who would control what they would do with their lives. Only Alm and Celica who would make the decisions, only Alm and Celica who would struggle with whatever troubles crossed their path, and only Alm and Celica who would find a way to overcome them. 

Spending hours lugging heavy boxes around after a life of generally being unaccustomed to labor had taken a toll on them both. Alm's limbs ached with exhaustion and he collapsed ungracefully against the wall. Celica's red curls had been tied up into a loose ponytail and her clothes were stained with sweat from the strenuous toil and the summer sun beating down their backs. She joined him on his spot on the floor, leaning their heads together as they rested for the first time in a day filled with constant activity.

"I wish you could have smoothed things over with your dad," Alm admitted after he caught his breath, "He could probably afford to get us help moving everything up. 'Considering that we had three flights of stairs to hike up."

He didn't need to see her face to know that his wife was scowling.

"Even if we did, I don't want anything from my father. Not his money or support or _anything_ ," She said, "I especially don't want him to hire a dozen of criminally underpaid workers to work for us."

Alm interlaced his fingers through her own, their palms pressed together, as she leaned into his touch. "Besides, the only people we need are ourselves. And we make a good team, don't you think?"

"The best," He agreed and for a while, only the sounds of their breaths and of the shutters clattering against the window at every occasional gust of wind remained. Normally, silence unnerved Alm and pushed him to try and fill the empty space with words. With Celica, though, just the sensation of her hand entwined with his and her shoulders rising and falling into an even pattern was all he needed.


End file.
